


Deck The Halls

by grimeslincoln



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeslincoln/pseuds/grimeslincoln
Summary: Michonne gives Rick a Christmas to remember.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm considering making this in to a series of oneshots, I'll see how it goes.  
> Please remember to comment below if you enjoyed this.

The strong aroma of cooking meat and scented candles wafted through the house and an old record player softly hummed outdated festive tunes. Michonne swayed her hips gently to the tune, her long dreadlocked hair tied loosely to her head in a low twist, one hand stirring the contents of a slow-cooker rhythmically and the other lazily flipping through a cook book that she had dug out from the back of one of the kitchen cupboards.

Steam rose from the pot that Aaron had managed to discover on a recent run and Michonne lifted the wooden spoon to her lips, quickly blowing the food to cool it before slipping it in to her mouth, her eyes closing and a quiet moan escaping her as she savoured the taste of the herbs and gravy.

Michonne was broken from her trance by the presence of muscular arms snaking themselves around her waist and the pressure of a warm body being pressed against her back.

“Smells good,” Rick’s husky voice whispered in her ear, resting his hands atop of each other on her toned stomach, his head resting in the crook of her neck, the rough hair of his beard tickling the skin that her tank top left exposed.

“Hmm. Tastes good as well,” Michonne retorted, scooping more of the stew in to the spoon before raising it to Rick’s parted lips. His tongue dipped in to the sauce, an appreciative hum vibrating from his chest.

“S’nice.” Michonne placed the spoon on the counter, returning the lid to the top of the slow-cooker to allow it to sit for a while, turning herself around in Rick’s arms so that she was facing him, the marble counter cool against the small of her back. She peered around Rick’s frame in to the living room, her eyes settling on the makeshift tree that they had managed to set up in the corner.

She giggled to herself as she remembered the previous day when Rick, Glenn and Daryl had spent nearly two hours attempting to fit it through the front door and force it to stand upright after venturing out in to the surrounding woods to chop it down, all three of them grumbling the entire time. She was pretty sure there was a dent in the trunk from where Daryl had punched it in frustration. It was far from the traditional pine tree, but it was the closest that they had been able to find. They had decorated it using an old box of decorations they had found in the attic; Rick had spent all day sitting on the sofa, attempting to untangle the fairy lights (Michonne had pretended not to notice when he got himself caught up in them), which were now draped over the branches, adding some sparkle despite half of the bulbs not working. Carl and Judith had then pitched in to help, the older boy holding his sister in his arms and helping her to push the faded red and gold baubles on to the limbs of the tree whilst she grinned in excitement, mesmerised by the bright colours.

The mantle of the fireplace had been littered with random decorations; an electronic Santa that swayed merrily from side to side, groaning mechanically from years of being stuck in a box, a china reindeer ornament and two red pillar candles flanked on either side by acorns. Rick followed her gaze, a lopsided grin making its way on to his lips as he realised what she was smiling at.

“I think we done a pretty good job,” he commented.

“I think it’s perfect,” Michonne grinned, staring up at Rick adoringly, her head tilted slightly to the side. His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he gazed back down at her, his tongue slipping out to slide over his lips before he bent his head, leaning down to press his warm mouth against hers, slipping his hands down to rest on her hips. The kiss was deep but short and before Michonne knew it, Rick was pulling away from her, moving to rest his forehead against hers.

“What time is everybody else coming over?”

“In a couple of hours. Carol is bringing apple pie and I think Eugene mentioned that he and Tara were attempting to make eggnog.”

“I’m getting hungry just thinking about it,” Rick chuckled, his chest vibrating against hers.

“Me too. Daryl done well with those rabbits,” Michonne commented, taking a glance down at the stew.

Daryl had brought back two fresh rabbits after his early morning hunt for their meal, and after Michonne had realised that it wasn’t going to be enough to feed all of their guests she had decided to cook them up in to a stew, using some beef stock provided by Olivia and then throwing in some chopped up potatoes, peas and carrots. Combined with the mashed potatoes and bread that Michonne had prepared and the dishes being brought by the rest of the group, they almost had a full Christmas dinner, something that Michonne had never dreamed of experiencing in this apocalyptic world.

The silence that had settled over them was soon broken by the sound of footsteps thudding down the staircase, quickly followed by the appearance of Carl in the doorway, Judith cradled in his arms. Carl was clad in a cleaned black shirt, that Rick had insisted he wear, much to the teenager’s dismay, his eye bandage freshly changed and his hair flicking out around his shoulders. Judith was dressed up in a pink jumper knitted by Mrs Hollis from down the street, a reindeer embroidered on the front, the stitching slightly messy due to the old woman’s arthritis and her fair hair was beginning to curl, much like her fathers.

“Oh, look at you!” Michonne cooed, the minute her eyes landed on the young girl, immediately striding towards her, arms outstretched, plucking her from Carl’s grasp.

She cuddled the child against her chest, the young girl reaching her chubby hands up to grasp at a strand of Michonne’s hair which had come loose from the elastic band holding it. Rick watched on fondly as Michonne chatted away to Judith, taking a moment to appreciate the woman in front of him as she twirled around the kitchen with his beloved daughter; his eyes took in the way that her light wash jeans accentuated her curves, how her dark skin glistened under the sunshine that filtered through the windows, the way that she grinned down at Judith, her chocolate eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

And in that moment, he considered that this may end up being the best Christmas he had ever had.

~~~~

* * *

 

Two short hours later and the Grimes family household was buzzing with energy; almost every inch of the living room was packed with bodies, the air consumed by the scent of the cooking food and the sound of laughter bouncing off of the walls.

Michonne found herself squashed in to the kitchen, attempting to finish up all of the food whilst accommodating the guests at the same time. She had managed to squeeze in time to change before anybody had arrived; her body now comfortably clad in an ankle-length orange dress which perfectly complimented her skin tone, her hair having been released from its up-do and now drifting down her shoulders, individual locks clipped back to expose more of her face. The dress had been a gift from Rick; a hidden gem that he had come across on a rack at a store he and Aaron had ventured to. It was slightly oversized on her athletic frame but nevertheless; she adored it.

She could feel sweat forming on her brow from the steam that emitted from the hot food, using the back of her hand to wipe the droplets away. Carol was beside her, spooning the mashed potatoes in to a serving dish, as calm and collected as ever despite the stressful environment, dressed neatly in a pair of white trousers and a light pink blouse, her animated smile never once dropping. Rosita and Tara were also lending their assistance; Rosita finishing off the tamales that she had kindly prepared for the meal, a traditional Mesoamerican recipe that she had learned courtesy of her abuela, whilst Tara attempted to throw together a salad, claiming that it was probably the only thing that she wouldn’t manage to burn.

Despite the pressure weighing down on Michonne’s shoulders at the prospect of having to prepare a perfect meal for the large group of people currently waiting on her, she couldn’t help but feel like this was turning out to be one of the best days of her life.

Michonne hadn’t grown up in a large family; she was used to being a bit of a loner and she had always been content with the little family that she and Mike had made for themselves, but to be spending the holidays with the people that she loved most in the world; it was perfect. She just wished that her baby boy could have been there with her to share the excitement. She could almost imagine how his eyes would have lit up at all the pretty colours and bright lights, how he would have been tugging on her sleeve, badgering her as to when the food would be ready.

She willed herself not to cry as she stood over the cooker, adding the finishing herbs and spices to her stew. She shook the reminiscent thoughts from her mind, instead taking one last sip of the stew and deciding that, finally, it was ready.

“Okay, I think I’m done here,” she announced to her kitchen companions, untying her dirtied apron from around her waist and placing it down on the counter, releasing a breath of relief.

“Yeah, we’re all finished,” Rosita commented, motioning to her and Tara’s completed dishes. Michonne turned to Carol, who nodded as a confirmation that she too was done preparing.

“OKAY PEOPLE, FOOD’S UP!” Tara’s voice boomed throughout the house, over the happy chatter of the rest of the group. Everyone immediately quietened at her words, their growling stomachs immediately taking over as they made their way to the makeshift table that had been set up in the lounge area. The large sofa had been pushed out of the way and Rick and Abraham had spent almost an hour pushing any sort of tables that they could find together, in order to make room for nearly twenty people to eat.

Abraham was the first to sit, followed by a glowing Sasha at his side, the mans face having turned as red as his hair due to alcohol consumption, a silver flask clutched tightly in his calloused fingers.

The pair were quickly joined by the rest of the group; Aaron and Eric took their seats, along with Eugene, a pair of reindeer antlers decorating his mullet, and Morgan. Carl and Enid decided to sit side by side, shy smiles on both of their faces as they held hands under the table cloth.  Glenn and Maggie followed; the woman attempting to navigate her protruding third-trimester bump through the room. She looked the epitome of festive as she waddled to her seat, a bright red Christmas jumper, decorated with snowflakes, stretched over her large stomach, a fluffy Santa hat covering her head and her cheeks rosy and flushed.

Clearly the holiday was widely celebrated in the Rhee household.

Daryl and Jesus were the last to sit, Daryl grumbling about the stupidity of the festive season with every step, whilst Jesus merely laughed at his grumpiness, finding it endearing.

Just as everybody took their seats, and Carol began placing the dishes on the table top, Rick appeared in the doorway, having descended down the stairs with a giggling Judith in his clutches.

The little girl was recently woken from her afternoon nap, her hair slightly dishevelled from sleep and her tiny hands grabbing at her father’s overgrowing facial hair. Rick had changed in to his denim shirt, mainly because he knew that Michonne loved seeing him wear it, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the veins in his arms. He watched on, almost in amazement, at the group of people sitting around, nothing but expressions of joy on their faces and the only sound being their excited chatter and laughter.

He strode over to Michonne, Judith bouncing in his arms, glancing down at the bowl of stew in her hands with a lick of his lips. He was quiet for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, before speaking.

“This isn’t something that I ever thought I would see,” he whispered, voice laced with awe.

After the world had gone to shit, and he had lost the woman that he loved, he never would have imagined that he would feel this much happiness again, or that he would see the group, that he considered family, sitting around, celebrating Christmas together as if they didn’t have a care in the world. And it was mostly down to her.

He glanced down at Michonne, feeling his heart swell with admiration as he stared at her, the woman who had put her blood, sweat and tears in to making this a memorable day for everybody, a woman who had given him and his children back a piece of a forgotten life, whilst giving them a glimpse of the life that they were yet to share with each other. He couldn’t help but break out in to a grin as he looked at her, overwhelmed by the love coursing through him.

“And it’s all down to you,” he paused for a second as she turned to look up at him, “thank-you.”

Michonne appeared surprised at his genuine words.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. Thank-you,” he repeated, suddenly feeling the need to display to her how unbelievably thankful he was to have her in his life.

Michonne smiled gratefully, her eyes twinkling with emotion, as she stretched up to meet Rick’s lips. He returned the gesture, balancing Judith in one arm and raising the other to gently hold the back of her neck, deepening the contact.

“Enough with the public displays of affection, we’re hungry as shit over here!” the kiss was interrupted by Abraham’s booming voice bouncing off of the walls, followed by the amused laughter of their family.

The couple couldn’t help but laugh as they pulled away from each other, Rick staring down at his feet bashfully.

“Come on,” Michonne smirked at his embarrassment, moving away from him, making her way over to the table to set down the stew.

Rick shook his head, taking a quick glance at Judith’s bubbly face before raising his eyes to watch his partner, appreciating the way that she interacted with their friends, her face beaming and full of pure joy.

“Yeah, this is going to be a good Christmas,” he whispered to his excitable daughter, placing a tender kiss atop of her head before crossing the room to join his family.


End file.
